One Hundred Chapters
by DiscoveringMyWonderland
Summary: One hundred chapters, one hundred thousand words. A collection of stories, mostly focusing on Meggie and Dustfinger. Rebooted from my old account, Alexa Twitch, which I cannot access. I do not own Inkheart.
1. A Little Help

**AN:** Hi there! You may have read part of this story before from my old account, Alexa Twitch. Thanks for still being interested! For those of you who don't know, this is collection of stories, each chapter being 1,000 words in length. These stories will take place post Inkheart, and ignore Inkspell and Inkdeath. Check the Author's Notes at the beginning of the stories, because I'll let you know if the chapter is AU, set during a different time, or are part of a single story arc that will last several chapters. These will be mostly Meggie/Dustfinger, but may focus on other pairings. Thank you for reading!

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Dustfinger liked to watch Farid play with fire. Even more so, though he'd never admit it, he liked to watch Meggie watch Farid play with fire. Her face lit up in a way that reminded him of Roxane's when he would make fire dance and grow flowers. Though there was something distinctly different about the young Silvertongue's face. Meggie's face held not only admiration but a cold, sneaking envy. An envy that only seemed to grow as she got older.

'I wish I could do that...' her face seemed to say.

Now, Farid was explaining how to twirl a baton when Dustfinger made his way into Elinor's garden. It was clear Meggie's fingers were more suited for sweeping a pen across paper than twirling a stick and she continued to drop it, much to the boy's annoyance. He heard their voices rise over the lawn, escalating from simple instructing to heated arguing.

"You're not doing it right!"

"Well maybe if you explained it better!"

"You're such a stupid girl!" The girl threw the baton at his apprentice, but he nimbly ducked it and took off towards the house. Smart move unless he wanted a pair of shoes flying at his face. Meggie stomped over to the fallen baton and picked it up, repeating the clumsy twirl. The more frustrated she became, the worse her attempts. He watched as the baton hit her arms, stomach, legs and his amusement faded with each strike. She'd be peppered with bruises if she kept it up. Finally, Dustfinger spoke up from his spot by the door.

"You're not going to get anywhere like that." he called.

Meggie whirled to glare at him. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a... what did she call it?... a horse tail? It snapped like a whip around her face. The locks had gotten longer and more unruly in the years since their little adventure in southern Italy. Her eyes had gotten bluer in those years, he supposed, and sharper. As had her tongue. More than once had he seen her give Farid, or even her father, a piece of her ever thriving mind. He would have to tread lightly, much like he had to do in the forests around Capricorn's village to avoid agitating the snakes, lest this little Silvertongue prove to be equally biting.

"What?" Meggie asked, exasperated.

"If you allow your frustrations to get the better of you, you're only going to get hurt." Dustfinger looked pointedly at Meggie's right arm, where she'd been struck the most. Meggie flushed in aggravation and pushed some strands of hair back from her forehead.

"Explain it?" she asked.

"No." He replied shortly, moving forward and plucking the baton from her fingers like a flower from loose soil.

"Not while you're angry. Anger will get you no where in life, princess, certainly not in my favor."

"Who said I wanted to be in our favor?" she retorted haughtily.

"You asked me to help you, right?" She fell silent, and Dustfinger knew she was considering her options.

If she chose to take the baton back, he wouldn't fight her for it. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. He found his gaze lingering on her lashes. More than once he'd overheard her saying to her mother about Farid having prettier eyelashes than her. He was no expert on eyelashes, but he thought hers, dark and fanned against her cheeks, were pretty enough. She opened her eyes and held out her hand for the stick.

"Please, will you explain it to me?" she asked, he voice steadier.

Rather than hand her the baton, he stepped behind her, holding his arm out like hers. He flipped it through his fingers with a practiced roll before handing it to her. She tried again and he had to duck to avoid it when it flew towards his face. He heard her huff and he placed his hands on her shoulders to keep her from moving after it. She took a few deep breaths, her shoulders rising and falling. Dustfinger could feel the material of her sweater rub against her skin and he retracted his hands, going to find the baton. His face flushed, despite the fact that it was late October and rather cold out, but he chalked it up to the heavy jacket he was wearing. Shrugging the jacket from his shoulders, the fire-eater moved to stand behind Meggie. Without warning he pushed the Silvertongue lightly between the shoulder blades.

"Hey!" she cried, stumbling forward.

"It's hard to focus on your hands when you're struggling to keep your balance. Put your feet closer together- not that close." Dustfinger corrected her stance. "Now start by rolling it between your first two fingers and your thumb."

Meggie flipped the baton clumsily through her fingers once, twice, nearly dropping it each time. Not allowing herself to become frustrated, she continued, ignoring when the baton flew out of her hand. Eventually, as the sundial indicated half past one, she managed a slow roll. Meggie grinned and Dustfinger couldn't stop the smile spreading across his face. She was so proud of herself and, he had to admit, he was proud of himself for helping her.

"Are you planning to leave again?" Meggie asked suddenly.

"Oh come now. You're still not sore about that trip to Rome I took last year?" Dustfinger chuckled. "I was only gone a few weeks!"

"You missed my 17th birthday." she mumbled, as if she were embarrassed at being upset.

"But if I remember correctly you liked that book I brought you alright. I'll try not to miss any more birthdays. Keep practicing." When the sun was low in the sky and they could tell it was late without the sundial, Meggie accomplished a complete twirl across her fingers. It wasn't as skilled as Dustfinger's but she beamed with pride. He couldn't stop the thought from worming its way into his mind and making him smile.

'I helped her do that...'


	2. Getting Burned Part 1

AN: This will be part of a two chapter story arc.

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**Getting Burned: Part 1**

Dustfinger was familiar with burns of all sorts. The Inkworld was void of comforts such as "sunscreen" and "fire-proof" clothing and so it made sense to the fire-eater that most burns in this world could be avoided. Thus, he had to laugh when Meggie came home sunburned from sleeping by the lake. Even Silvertongue had chuckled at his daughter's silly mistake. Meggie, of course, found nothing funny about the situation she now found herself in. She blamed it all on Farid, who'd forgotten to pack the sunscreen, but even she knew that she could have easily trekked back to the house for it. Her shoulders, arms, and chest were all bright red and it was clear that they would remain that way for a while.

"You should be more careful, princess." Dustfinger teased. "A burn like that can really hurt."

Meggie had rolled her eyes, but Dustfinger knew better. He could see from her careful movements that the skin was already starting to ache. He'd learned at an early age to be wary of the sun lest he become unable to move for his fire shows. In Inkheart, he'd seen the strolling players acquire the tell-tale stiff movements and, occasionally, the fevers and swooning that sometimes came with too much sun. The children were especially susceptible to it, sometimes burning so bad they'd blister. He'd hated hearing their moaning and retching through the walls of his tent, it was very disruptive.

"Resa..." Dustfinger heard the little silvertongue say as she climbed the stairs for bed. "It kind of hurts."

That was just the first day. The second day Silvertongue informed the breakfast table that he'd gotten a call from a book collector in southern Italy that had some books in need of doctoring. Resa wanted to join him, as she had been doing more often, and Meggie would most likely have agreed had she been awake. Dustfinger couldn't help the small twinge of jealousy that still ran through him every once in a while when Resa and Silvertongue were a complete, happy family. Something he would never have again.

"Mortimer, this is simply the most inopportune time!" Elinor protested. "Darius and I are leaving tomorrow for a book shop in France that is notorious for having first editions hiding among the shelves and we'll be gone for at least a few days. While I know those poor books are in need, I can't allow you to leave my books unattended!"

"Oh, Meggie can take care of your books while we're gone. She'll be 20 next month and if anyone is going to be responsible about books it's her." Mo reasoned, spreading some jam over his cheese toast. Dustfinger and Elinor grimaced; it was one of the few traits they shared. No matter how many times he saw that, it was still disgusting.

Meggie came downstairs looking very tired and sore, though she looked as though she was trying to hide it. Dustfinger noticed a slight grimace as she reached for the jam and he slid it closer to her.

"Meggie." Elinor said in her sternest voice. Dustfinger winced at her tone as he passed the little silvertongue the butter. "Do you think you are responsible enough to watch over my books? And that means staying at least three paces away from the glass cases! And making sure the security alarm is set! AND-"

"Yes." she said in a small voice. "Of course. And I'll lock the library at night."

Elinor stared at her great niece for a moment. Then, she pointed her spoon at her as if she were threatening her with Basta's knife.

"See that you do. And as for you two." she turned her spoon-blade on Farid and Dustfinger. "Watch out for her, and stay away from my books."

Later, when Dustfinger went to find Meggie for supper, he found her curled up in her room under a heavy blanket. He leaned against the doorway and stared at her, dozing with a book in her hand. She shivered, so slightly it was hardly perceptible. He wouldn't be surprised if she was running a fever.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. Meggie perked up and looked over at him, putting on a brave face.

"I'm fine!" she said but her voice sounded forced.

Early in the third morning, Meggie said her goodbyes over breakfast. Resa looked a little concerned when she kissed Meggie's forehead. "Is she running a fever?" Resa's hands asked. Mo felt her forehead and shrugged.

"Father's don't know these things. It's very hot out, she's probably over heated." Mo kissed Meggie's cheek. "Keep safe. And don't forget to call."

"Don't forget to leave your phone on." Meggie replied, yawning.

By noon, Farid and Dustfinger were on the lawn, practicing a new partner's juggling routine. At first, Dustfinger didn't notice anything amiss about the day. Farid was practicing balancing an unlit torch on his palm. Gwin was curled up on Elinor's lawn chair. That was when he realized what was missing. Normally, Meggie would have been sitting in that chair reading. Farid called after him when he turned on heel and strode up towards the house, but he ignored his apprentice. The little silvertongue wasn't in the kitchen, where she'd been when he last saw her. Nor was she in the library pouring over a book. She wasn't even sleeping on the couch. 'Where is she?' he thought, beginning to get annoyed. And a little bit worried.

"Meggie?" he called.

"Up here!" she called back. Her voice was immediately followed by the unmistakable sound of retching. He found himself taking the stairs two at a time and sighed when he looked in Meggie's doorway. She was kneeling beside her bed, her hands planted on either side of her waste basket. Shivers wracked her frame and Dustfinger immediately knelt beside her. His hand brushed her neck as he pulled her hair back from her face and he could feel how hot her skin was.

"C'mon princess. Lie down."


	3. Getting Burned Part 2

**Getting Burned: Part 2**

"What are we supposed to do?" asked Farid.

Upstairs, a feverish silvertongue was shivering, feverishly under her covers. Downstairs, a fire eater and his apprentice were sitting at the kitchen table trying to figure out exactly what to do with her.

"Back in the Inkworld, many of the strolling players got a sun sickness during the summer. The physicians would use herbs to cool the skin, but I can't remember their names. Surely you're familiar with these types of burns." Dustfinger said, his fingers idly playing with a matchbox.

"No. I remember the burns but never any sickness." he replied.

Dustfinger looked at Farid. He sometimes forgot that Farid had been in love with Silvertongue's daughter, it was so long ago. Occasionally he caught a glimpse of that old spark between them, like last winter when Meggie had tripped down the stairs, twisting her ankle so badly she was laid up in bed. Farid had been more than happy to play the roles of butler and messenger. Nowadays, for the most part, they were more like siblings than anything else.

"Well I suppose we should take turns sitting with her to make sure she doesn't get worse." Dustfinger responded. "And I suppose I should call her parents and let them know how their daughter is."

It was only when he heard Farid climbing the stairs that he reached for the phone and the card with Mo's number. Dialing the number, he held his breath. Normally Mo was very easygoing however when it came to his daughter's health and well being...

"Hello?" Mo's voice asked over the phone.

"Hello." Dustfinger said awkwardly.

"Dustfinger?" his voice sounded nervous. Dustfinger didn't just idly pick up the phone to chat. The modern technology still foreign to him. "Is everything alright? Where's Meggie?"

"She's fine. Everything's fine." Dustfinger paused. "Well for the most part."

"What do you mean?" Mo asked sternly.

"She's sick. It's sun sickness." Dustfinger explained. "Before you get all worked up she's lying down and other than a fever she seems to be alright."

'Except for the vomiting and the chills and the pain.' he thought, wincing. Despite what others might think, he didn't like to lie to Silvertongue, but he knew Meggie would hate it if her parents came home to baby her. The girl could be independent to a fault.

"Should we come home?"

"You know as well as I do that if you come home early she'll be upset. Farid and I can make sure she's fine. She can take care of herself."

"I suppose so." Mo sighed. "There's aspirin in the cabinet above the bathroom sink and- what is it Resa? Resa says that there's lotion- ah yes, there's aloe lotion in there too. Should help with the pain from the sunburn."

"Alright."

"Thank you."

Dustfinger hung up and sighed. The sound of Meggie vomiting again prompted him to go to the refrigerator and look for a water bottle. He found one in the back, behind the jam jar. He climbed the stairs and made his way to Meggie's room. Farid was holding her hair back with an expression of mild disgust on his face as Meggie wiped her mouth with a tissue. There was a bottle of mouthwash next to her and she rinsed her mouth out with it, spitting it into the bucket. Dustfinger told Farid what to get out of the cabinet and Farid nodded, looking relieved to be able to get away from the sick girl.

"Here." Dustfinger handed Meggie the bottle and she cringed when she moved her arm. "How are you feeling?"

"Gross." Meggie groaned. "Sore. I've never had a sunburn this bad before."

Farid came in an handed Meggie the aspirin. She dumped two in her hand and handed the bottle back. Meggie looked thankful and her could see his hand lingering on her arm just a little too long for his comfort.

'Stop it, Dustfinger. Why do you feel so protective of her? Have the years under this roof made you soft?'

After they ate dinner, Dustfinger was very good at heating up soup, Farid went to sleep and Dustfinger sat in the armchair by the window. Meggie hadn't gotten sick again but he wanted to keep an eye on her. After a while Meggie gave a groan of frustration and reached for the lotion, grunting in pain when her movements hurt too much.

"Not the smartest idea, huh?" Dustfinger asked, chuckling.

"It itches when I'm still and burns when I move. Can you put some of this on my arms?" Meggie asked. Dustfinger nodded but his mouth felt curiously dry. What was the problem?

"Your mother said it would help." Dustfinger said idly, sitting on the edge of the bed. When he felt Meggie's eyes on him he paused. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Do you still love my mother?" she asked.

"What?" he exclaimed, startled.

"I see the way you look at my mother sometimes." Meggie reasoned. "I was just wondering."

"Do you still love Farid?" he asked in reply.

"You're dodging the question." She laughed, but the expression didn't quite reach her eyes. "I think the way we feel someone, it never really goes away. Sometimes I think I still love him, yes. But I know that we can't live in the past."

Dustfinger laughed ruefully. "I've spent most of my life living in the past, princess."

Without warning, Meggie leaned up and pressed her lips to his scarred cheek, then to the corner of his mouth. Dustfinger turned and pressed his lips to hers. Her lips were chapped and some of her hair had gotten caught in between them and they were both frozen with shock at what they were doing. It was the most awkward kiss either of them had experienced but it felt somehow right; exactly as it was supposed to be. They pulled back from each other and stared. Then, without another word, Meggie turned and vomited.


	4. Unseeing

**Unseeing**

There are things that Dustfinger wished he could unsee. He wished he could unsee the old writer in the his village. He wished he could unsee all the murdering and tormenting that Capricorn had ordered both in the Inkworld and in this new one. Sometimes, he wished he could unsee the Inkworld and forget why he ever wanted to go back.

Farid could help him unsee things. When he was teaching the boy the ways of fire it was easy to forget the troubles he had seen in his life. When he and Resa told stories, he forgot the way the fairies used to whisper to him and how the trees would speak. Even when he sat down and read with silvertongue's daughter, he found himself missing his old life less. Not that having this place to stay quelled his wanderlust. He still found himself hungry for travel and the thrill of the crowd's cheers when he performed.

Finally, he was ready to see things he didn't want to unsee. Dustfinger wanted to hear the crowds and see the thrill on people's face when he performed. He left one night, about a year after the events in Capricorn's village. Of course he had only gotten as far as the end of the driveway when Farid caught up with him. So the two of them set off for another part of the country. They went west until they hit the coast and then followed it, finding that seaside tourists paid well when they performed. They took a ferry to Sardegna for a while, then back to Italy. When they ran out of Italian coast, they went to France. The people in Marseilles paid handsomely and they stayed for a long time. One night, Farid put what Meggie had taught him to good use and wrote her a letter. He asked Dustfinger of all people to correct his spelling. He chuckled at the look on the boy's face when he told him he'd misspelled kiss. They received a reply the night before they left the hotel. Farid opened the envelope and took out two sheets of paper. Dustfinger was wondering how much she could have to say when Farid handed him a letter.

"That one has your name on it." his apprentice said, peering at his own letter.

Dustfinger sat on his bed and looked at the letter. His reading was steadily improving, but he still found it difficult to decipher the letters he knew so well.

_'Dustfinger,'_ the letter said. _'I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Farid. I'm upset that you left in the middle of the night like that. You could have at least written a note or something, you know. I wish I could say that I am worried about you two but I'm not. Please keep an eye on Farid. Yes, I know he's perfectly capable of taking care of himself but all the same. Please do that for me. I feel as though I'm wasting paper by having so little to say but that's all that was on my mind. I hope this letter finds you well. Meggie. P.S.'_ Dustfinger paused to wonder what that meant._ 'I do miss reading with you so could you do me one more favor and come back as soon as your curiosity is satisfied?'_

That was all. It was more of a note than a letter and he didn't bother to write a reply unlike Farid. France gave way to Spain and after a long stay in Barcelona, they headed back. Back towards what, Dustfinger wasn't sure. It wasn't his home, really. He could have continued on to Morocco and even further if he wanted to, but for some reason he didn't want to. He found himself missing Resa's stories and that hot chocolate stuff that Silvertongue would make and even Elinor's constant griping about her books. Most of all he missed reading with Meggie. So, a little under a year after they left, they walked up Elinor's driveway. Dustfinger almost didn't recognize Meggie when she opened the door, she'd grown so much.

It seemed to Dustfinger that absence makes the heart grow fonder because Farid and Meggie grew closer than ever. But however close an eye he kept on them he could tell there was no stopping the inevitable. Dustfinger began to see things he wished he could unsee again.

Like when Farid finally asked Meggie to be his girlfriend.

Or how he and Meggie read together less and less.

Or how pained the little silvertongue looked when he and Farid announced they were taking another tour of the coast.

Or the expensive bracelet Farid gave her for her 16th birthday that she wore every day since.

Or catching Farid coming out of her room the morning after her 17th birthday, when he thought everyone was still sleeping.

What Dustfinger wished he could unsee most of all was Meggie crying and throwing that bracelet across the yard after Farid.

"Meggie?"

Meggie looked up from her book and stared at him. It had been one month since her break up with Farid and she seemed to be doing better since the boy had left for another trip. Dustfinger had opted to stay behind, much to Farid's chagrin.

"Yes?"

"Uh, how are you feeling?" In all the years they'd lived under the same roof it was still hard to talk to her sometimes.

"I'm fine." she answered, sighing.

"Good." he coughed. Dustfinger looked at the tree, the grass, anywhere but at her. "You never used to sigh this much."

Meggie laughed. "Concerned?"

"Yes." Dustfinger looked straight at her now.

"You know... this book is really good. You want to read it with me?"

Dustfinger sat down next to Meggie on the warm grass, not that far from where she'd been standing the day he watched her heart break. As he read the first words aloud, he could feel all the things he wanted to unsee leaving his mind.


	5. Overheard on a Winter's Night

The first time they read together was long after life had begun to settle down for Meggie. Dustfinger and Farid and returned to Elinor's house every winter, insisting it was only for a little while. Mo had told Meggie it was probably because they still hadn't been able to find a decent silvertongue to read them into _Inkheart_ and Dustfinger was holding out hope that one year he would agree to do it. It was early winter and already freezing out, though they hadn't gotten any snow yet. Meggie liked to sneak down in the middle of the night and read on the couch. It seemed like, by the dim light of the lamp, in the freezing winter, the stories could dance before her without the use of her "silver tongue." On one such night, when her dreams had woken her and she'd slipped downstairs, Dustfinger found her. She'd nearly jumped out of her skin when he asked what she was doing awake.

"I could ask you the same thing." she replied.

"Couldn't sleep." Dustfinger said, joining her on the couch.

Meggie looked at Dustfinger's clothes. He was wearing a worn black sweater, probably picked up at a second hand shop, and some soft looking black trousers. She wasn't even sure Dustfinger owned a pair of pajamas but then she couldn't really picture him them. He just didn't seem like the type. Living in the Inkworld he was probably only owned one or two sets of clothes for everything he did. Meggie realized she was staring and blushed, turning back to her book.

"What are you reading?" he asked, suddenly. She looked up and saw him peering at her book. Meggie looked at the book herself. It was an older book, one of Elinor's that she had borrowed, and the cover was a deep blue. Inside, on the page opposite the poem she was reading, was a drawing on a beautiful water nymph wearing not much more than a gown so thin it looked like it was made of woven moonbeams. She was perched on a tree stump and her marsh weed adorned hair cascaded in ropes over her shoulders, preserving her modesty. Out of the marshy waters around her feet crawled a slimy goblin that was staring covetously at the string of green glass beads that adorned the nymph's neck.

"It's a book of poems." she said. Dustfinger was looking at the water nymph in the picture. Meggie moved closer so he could see the picture better. His eyes studied the nymph so closely Meggie began to feel embarrassed and thought about closing the book to his prying eyes.

"She looks nothing like the nymphs from the Inkworld." he said finally. "She's far too human."

Meggie nodded thoughtfully. Dustfinger moved closer, twisting his head to look at the words.

"Will you read it to me?" he asked suddenly. Then he gave a pained expression, realizing the foolishness of his words. She wouldn't read him a single word and he knew that perfectly well. Meggie looked equally hurt. She would have liked to say yes, despite the consequences. But she couldn't, so she didn't.

"I want to." Meggie said thoughtfully, more honestly than she intended to be. "But perhaps... you could read it to me?"

Dustfinger stared at Silvertongue's daughter. She was wearing a blue sweater and a pair of cotton trousers she liked to call pajamas. Her hair was falling out of it's long braid and he marveled at how long it had grown since last winter. He shook his head.

"Why would you want me to read to you?"

Meggie said nothing just tilted her head and stared at him, her face as blank as the paper she loved to write on. He nodded and she immediately moved closer, placing the book on his lap so they could both see the words. Shoulder to shoulder, they stared at the pages.

"Nymph, nymph," he began, slowly. His reading had improved over the years but he was still a slow reader. It wasn't as if he often picked up books and read them of his own volition. _"What are your beads?_

_Green glass, goblin. Why do you stare at them?_

_Give them me._

_No._

_Give them me. Give them me._

_No._

_Then I will howl all night in the reeds,_

_lie in the mud and howl for them._

_Goblin, why do you love them so?_

_They are better than stars or water,_

_Better than voices of winds that sing,_

_Better than any man's fair daughter,_

_Your green glass beads on a silver ring._

_Hush, I stole them out of the moon._

_Give me your beads, I want them._

_No._

_I will howl in a deep lagoon_

_For your green glass beads, I love them so._

_Give them me. Give them._

_No."_

Dustfinger was staring at the pages, the words there no longer a mystery to him. Meggie's head had fallen against his shoulder as he read and now he could see her eyes beginning to close. He had every intention of trying to wake her when she reached for the book, flipped the page, and sleeping muttered "keep reading please" so softly he almost missed it. He complied, reading aloud until his yawning pock marked almost every word and the sun was beginning to rise. He carefully closed the book and set it aside, knowing Elinor would tear him apart like a Red Cap had she caught him with one of her books. Then he leaned back, closing his eyes for just a moment.

It was Resa who found them in the morning, Meggie curled into Dustfinger's side, Gwin curled by her knees. She couldn't help the smile that stole across her face. She gently shook Dustfinger awake and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Resa." he glanced down at her sleeping daughter. For some reason he felt like a marten caught with a hen. "I-"

Resa merely put a finger to her lips and shook her head, smiling.


	6. Filed Away

**Filed Away**

Meggie remembered every kiss Dustfinger and her had shared. She kept them catalogged in her mind like Elinor's books. Their first kiss had come about in the oddest of ways...

"You're leaving?" Meggie asked, looking from Dustfinger to his pack sitting on his bed.

"I've been here too long." the fire eater replied, stuffing his shirt into his pack.

"You're going to look for another silvertongue." Dustfinger didn't even try to ignore how caustic her voice sounded.

"Yes." He didn't bother lying, but he wasn't sure why. He and Farid had been leaving like this, without notice or explaination, for years. Why did she care?

"You've looked before." Meggie sighed. "It's been seven years."

"Too long since I've seen my home!" he snapped, his temper wearing thin. Before he realized what she was doing, Meggie's hands were in his backpack, pulling the book out. He grabbed for it but she moved it out of the way. She went to jump over the bed but he caught her around the waist and tackled her. Each had a steel grip on the book and Meggie tried to throw Dustfinger off her in vain.

"Let go, damn it!" she growled.

Dustfinger paused, still clutching the book. His face was obscured by his hair and Meggie could only guess that he was furious.

"Dustfinger?"

His entire body shook and it wasn't until she released the book and moved the hair from his face that she saw he was laughing. It sounded as though he hadn't had a good laugh in years.

"You-" Dustfinger laughed. "You have quite the mouth, little Silvertongue!"

Meggie blinked. He was laughing because she had cursed? Thinking now, she realized he had never heard her curse before. She only did when she was very angry. But all her anger was forgotten at the sound of Dustfinger's laugh. It was infectous. She found herself giggling right along with him. Meggie twined her arms around him and hugged him hard.

Everything stopped. Dustfinger froze and Meggie wished she could see his face. In that moment, nothing matter to her except holding on to Dustfinger and not letting him leave.

"Please stay." she whispered. "Please don't leave me again."

Dustfinger had tried everything in his power to keep people out of his heart. But it seemed he had cracks in his defenses and they kept slipping in like heat through a poorly mended wall. First Farid and now... now Meggie. When had that happened? Dustfinger moved to sit next to her. From the corner of his eye, he saw her move to get up and he caught her arm, staying her movements. She inched at a snails pace, sitting up, pulling her legs under her, rising to her knees. The silvertongue put her her free hand on his cheek and turned his head towards her.

"I want you to stay." This time she wasn't even sure if she just meant in this house or in this world.

Something snapped inside Dustfinger and he was pressing his lips to hers before she realized what was happening. When he finally pulled away, Meggie sat back confused.

"What was that?"

Dustfinger shrugged, trying to stay calm when his heart was beating like a drum.

"I don't know."

"What do we do now?"

"I don't know."

"Is there anything that you do know?"

"I don't think so."

Dustfinger had left, of course, a few nights later. Meggie woke up and found a note on her bedside table and she knew he was gone. She didn't even bother to read the note before she ran upstairs. She sat on his bed, just as she had only days earlier, and told herself she'd be stupid to cry. Finally, Meggie opened the note.

"Just a month."

That was all it said, no signature, although his handwriting was unmistakable. As Meggie stood, something on the dresser caught her eye. _Inkheart_.

Meggie knew one thing: Where ever Dustfinger and Farid were, they weren't looking for another silvertongue.

"What are you thinking about?"

Meggie smiled, but didn't open her eyes at the sound of Dustfinger's voice. The two were lying in the hammock in Elinor's garden. The weather was unsually warm for fall and it was nice to take advantage it. The leaves on the trees glinted golden and red in the bright sunshine. A bird of some kind was singing away overhead. Meggie had a notebook, one of the many her father had bound for her, sitting on her lap. Her fingers had idly been tracing the pattern on the cover and Dustfinger had threaded his fingers with hers.

"Just daydreaming."

Dustfinger smiled.

"One of these days you're going to fall right into a day dream, princess." He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

"And you'd be close behind me, wouldn't you?"

"Of course. With Farid and your parents behind _me_."

"And Elinor and Darius too, of course."

Dustfinger laughed. He was doing that more often lately, Meggie noticed. Especially since _Inkheart_ had found its permanent home in a safe under the floorboards of her parent's room. After that first kiss, Dustfinger hadn't given up on going home entirely. Sometimes she still caught that far-away look in his eyes. In time, perhaps, she would read them there and they would find that traveling in the Wayless Wood or with the strolling players was better when they were together. Of course her family would come too. Including Farid, who had grown to be Meggie's best friend and Dustfinger's shadow. Farid had been jealous of Meggie "stealing" Dustfinger's time, but that, like Dustfinger's yearning, had faded into a dying ember ready to go out at any time. He seemed more happy that Dustfinger was happy and Meggie was always willing to step aside and let Dustfinger and Farid have their time. But all thoughts and musings left her mind as Dustfinger leaned down and kissed her. Just one more to file away in her memory.


	7. Decode

**AN:** How are you lovely readers enjoying these stories so far? I would love for you to let me know what you think!

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**Decode**

When storms were rattling Elinor's windows and Meggie had to remind herself the place was solid, Farid would sneak into Meggie's room and they'd go to the attic and sit with Dustfinger. He always had nightmares when there were storms. Meggie supposed this was the reason she had fallen for him.

Dustfinger wouldn't admit it, but he liked to wake up to Meggie and Farid shaking him. It was these times when he would wrap his arms around Meggie and tell the two stories about his life. He hardly spoke of Roxane, except in passing, but he spoke honestly. If ever Farid and Meggie were going to hear the truth it was on those nights when fear only released its hold on his heart when he had a hold on Meggie.

On one of those stormy nights, Meggie brought something upstairs with her. A sheet of paper would become the door home. Meggie smiled when he kissed her in way of thanks.

_How can I decide what's right?_

_When you're clouding up my mind_

_I can't win your losing fight all the time_

Meggie didn't hate Dustfinger for not telling Roxane about them right away. Their relationship was unconventional at best and she was used to being secretive about it. Roxane was only a year younger than Dustfinger where she was 15 years his junior. Meggie knew she probably wouldn't understand.

Age was a touchy subject for Dustfinger when their relationship was involved, but it had never bothered Meggie. Until Roxane. When Roxane asked if Farid was Dustfinger's son, Meggie had laughed at first but it didn't take her long to remember that Farid was older than her. And if she thought Farid was Dustfinger's son...

The first week, the three of them slept on a straw mattress in the barn. Dustfinger held tight to Meggie and whispered that he would tell Roxane soon, after they'd settled in and the shock of seeing him wore off.

_How can I ever own what's mine_

_When you're always taking sides_

_But you won't take away my pride_

_No not this time_

"How can you stand her?" Farid asked one day when they were sitting in the barn.

"She's nice." Meggie half lied. Roxane did try to be nice, but she got a possesive look in her eyes when Meggie was close to Dustfinger too long or when Farid asked him to come outside and practice a new trick.

_'Mine.' _her eyes seemed to say. _'Mine first.'_

"Not to me!" Farid protested. "And certainly not to Dustfinger! She married another man and had his children!"

"Child." Meggie corrected. "Jehan is a nice kid and I feel sorry that he lost his father in that horrible way. Not to mention Roxane's loss. A child and a husband? And as for Brianna... she's very kind."

She'd known the moment Brianna rode her horse into the yard that she was Dustfinger's daughter. Dustfinger had mentioned that he'd had children, Meggie just didn't realize how old they were. When Dustfinger found out about his younger daughter's death he'd been silent for a long time. That night, he'd held Meggie tighter than he ever held her before.

"Are you angry with Dustfinger?" Farid asked quietly, slipping his hand into hers and squeezing it. "It's been a week and he hasn't told her."

"No, I'm not angry."

_How did we get here?_

_Well I used to know you so well_

_How did we get here?_

_Well I think I know_

Dustfinger pulled the new tunic over his head and Meggie smiled at him.

"It looks wonderful."

"It looks like you spent too much on the fabric." Dustfinger replied, feeling the material.

"So I'll have to sing twice as well in the market place. You do like it, don't you?"

Dustfinger smiled and leaned down to her, kissing her soundly on the lips.

"Of course I do." he mumbled.

A dull thud made them jump and turn towards the noise. Roxane had dropped a basket of simples and was staring at them with shock.

_The truth is hiding in your eyes_

_And its hanging on your tongue_

"What's going on?" Roxane whispered, confusion writ across her features.

Dustfinger was numb with guilt and fear. He didn't want either one of them to be angry. Roxane could refuse to let him see his daughter and Meggie... he couldn't lose her.

_Just boiling in my blood_

_But you think that I can't see_

Meggie was dying inside. She knew he would choose Roxane over her. She knew him before Meggie was even born. They had children. If he thought she couldn't see the truth in his eyes, he was foolish.

_What kind of man that you are_

_If you're a man at all_

_Well I will figure this one out_

_On my own_

Meggie couldn't take it. She ran from the house, past Jehan and Farid, and kept running. She thought she heard Farid shouting, but it was drowned out by her own breathing.

_How did we get here?_

_Well I used to know you so well_

_How did we get here?_

_Well I think I know_

Dustfinger's heart pounded, threatening to leap from his chest. Farid wouldn't speak to him and Meggie was missing. He had tried to explain to him what had happened, though it wasn't like him to explain his actions.

"Please come back." he whispered.

_How did we get here?_

_Well I used to know you so well_

It was nightfall when Meggie came back to Roxane's farm. She could see a light in the barn, flickering softly. She almost smiled. What Meggie didn't expect was Dustfinger's look of relief when he saw her standing in the doorway. She didn't expect those thoughts in her mind to be decoded and when he hugged her tight against him everything felt alright again.

"Don't ever do that again, Meggie." he whispered. "I don't love her like I love you."

Meggie just held him tighter.

_'But you love her.'_ she thought.


	8. Figured

**Figured**

Living under the same roof makes you learn a lot about each other. For instance, Meggie knew exactly when Dustfinger was pissed off. Those were the best times for her. When he was too angry to say no and just wanted to get rid of the pain and hurt that roiled in his heart.

_I like your pants around your feet_

_And I like the dirt that's on your knees_

_And I like the way you still say please_

_While you're looking up at me_

_You're like my favourite damn disease_

She liked to take control like that but, for some reason, it seemed a little wrong to her. Like she was taking advantage of him. Although, if her parents knew, they'd probably say it was the other way around. Only they knew the truth.

The truth of why they did what they did in the attic. Or Meggie's room. Or pressed against the back wall of Mo's workshop. She was careful to note each time he moaned Roxane's name. At first it hurt, but the look on his face when she whisper _"Farid"_ made it sting less. Lately it seemed they said those names less and less.

_And I love the places that we go_

_And I love the people that you know_

_And I love the way you can't say no_

_Too many long lines in a row_

_I love the powder on your nose_

Meggie remembered going to a book binders convention with her family. She hadn't really wanted to go but even Elinor had risen to the occasion and dressed up for the formal event. Resa had made Meggie an Inkheart style Motley dress. Dustfinger wasn't going, he would have stuck out like a sore thumb, but he was sure to compliment her on her new dress while she was face down on a dusty table in the attic.

_And now I know who you are_

_It wasn't that hard, just to figure you out_

_(Now I did, you wonder why)_

_And now I know who you are_

_It wasn't that hard, just to figure you out_

Dustfinger was suprised Silvertongue didn't notice. He and Meggie had been sneaking around for months now, almost a year. Her 18th birthday was looming ahead of them and he could feel a steady panic rising in his chest. What would she expect of him then?

_I like the freckles on your chest_

_And I like the way you like me best_

_And I like the way you're not impressed_

_While you put me to the test_

_I like the white stains on your dress_

Meggie never told Dustfinger about the time she'd bought a pregnancy test and had sat in the bathroom shaking, praying for the day to just be a dream. She remembered that day clearly as if it were yesterday and not three months ago. Meggie had been wearing her favorite blue sundress; as blue as the little blue negative that appeared on the screen after what seemed like an eternity. She didn't have that dress anymore. After thoroughly getting rid of the evidence, Meggie'd gone to the garden to find Dustfinger and had torn it horribly on one of the yellow rose bushes. Dustfinger then broke the zipper and Meggie never bothered to fix it.

_And I love the way you pass the check_

_And I love the good times that you wreck_

_And I love your lack of self-respect_

_While you passed out on the deck_

_I love my hands around your neck_

Dustfinger never told Meggie about that time he'd woken up during a storm and had simply sat there, staring at her. She didn't usually stay the whole night.

_"Too easy to get caught." _she'd say. Or sometimes:_ "I happen to like my own bed, thank you."_

Not that he asked her to stay. He prefered being alone and the silvertongue was right. It was far too easy to get caught. But that night he sat there, looking down at her sleeping form and entertained the idea of not letting her leave. He couldn't figure out why she hated herself so much. She could have any guy in Italy lying at her feet with a snap of her fingers, hell she could have Farid if she wanted, but no. She chose to dally with him. For a split second he thought about that book where the devoted husband goes mad and kills his wife. Strangles her.

_'You'd do it too.'_ a small voice inside him whispered. _'If she ran off with another... you'd twine your fingers about her slim neck and...'_

But she wouldn't. He knew she wouldn't.

_And now I know who you are_

_It wasn't that hard, just to figure you out_

Meggie had learned her father's trades well, both the secret and the known. If she wanted to, she could have read the Adderhead's whole damn army out of the book. Dustfinger had figured that much out. She had also learned him well, every muscle twitch, every way to piss him off and soothe him, every last quirk. He knew that too.

_Now I did, you wonder why_

_Why not before, you never tried_

_Gone for good, and this is it_

She liked to let Dustfinger believe he had the control. But if she were truly being honest with herself... neither of them did. They were addicted to each other. Fighting for control like the worst of junkies fought for smack on the street.

_You're like my favourite damn disease_

One day that addiction would catch up to them despite the fact that they liked to think they had it all figured out.

_And now I know who you are_

_It wasn't that hard, just to figure you out_

_(Now I did, you wonder why)_

_And now I know who you are_

_It wasn't that hard, just to figure you out_

_(Now I did, you wonder why)_

_(Why not before, you never tried)_

_(Gone for good, and this is it) _


	9. Not So Bad

**Not So Bad**

Dustfinger assures Meggie that love, and the things that generally come with being in love with someone, are not all that wonderful. He insists that it's complicated and fights have a tendency to be more and more frequent the longer you love someone. Eventually, he swears, the love simply goes away and you're left with a ton of regrets. They are much better off not being in love with anyone.

Meggie, however, insists that love can't be as bad as all that. She daydreams about smiles and hand holding, no matter how much Dustfinger reminds her of fighting. Sure it must be complicated but didn't that give her all the more reason? One day, she swears, she'll find love. Perhaps closer than she ever expects.

Their first kiss is inevitable. Not quite perfect, but it not horrible. Dustfinger is helping her put books back on the shelves in her room. When he leans over her to put _Wuthering Heights _in its proper place, she turns. He remembers the smudge of ink on her nose as clearly as she can remember the lingering scent of smoke on his skin. She stumbles backwards into the bookshelf and the thump makes Mo knock on the door and ask if everything is alright. It's strange to say the least. Kissing your not-quite-but-almost-friend's daughter while he stands outside. Not quite perfect.

Hand holding takes a while to master. It's confusing to figure out exactly who needs to hold their hand what way to make eachother comfortable. Dustfinger prefers just resting his hand on top of her hand when it's sitting in her lap. Finally, Meggie gets in the habit of pulling him places by his sleeve if she's in a hurry.

When he first says those three words, Meggie had thought he'd said something along the lines of "ilagoo." She looks at him strangely and replies: "bless you?" He'd stood from the couch, walked over, took her by the shoulders, looked her in the eye, said: "...thank you for making dinner", and walked away.

Later that night, she finds _Wuthering Heights_ on her bedside table. Sticking out, so she could see it, is a note saying something that was clearly not "ilagoo" and Meggie can't sleep at all that night for smiling. In the morning, she sits down at the breakfast table and hands him _Wuthering Heights_, smiling. Leaning over she whispers, "me too." Resa gives Meggie a knowing grin which she fights hard not to return.

Telling Mo is not as bad as they anticipate. Mo sighs and smiles and swears he suspected as much but Meggie knows better. Mo ensures Dustfinger that if his daughter's heart gets broken, he'll read him into a Stephen King novel. He's not quite sure what that means but from Silvertongue's voice it can't be good.

Resa grins ear to ear and her hands tell them she's happy. Elinor acts less than pleased and hides her smile behind her handkerchief. Farid lets out an excited whoop and spins Meggie around, please for both of them. Dustfinger even allows his apprentice to hug him, a rare thing.

Their first time is awkward and horrible. It's nothing like in stories and Meggie tries her hardest not to cry because it _hurts_. Dustfinger apologizes over and over and swears they'll never do it again if she wants.

In the grey hours of the morning, they try again. Meggie swears if Dustfinger says one thing about never doing _that_ again she'll read him into a Hemingway story. Dustfinger adds this man to the list of author's to be wary of.

Mo compares their first fight, their first pointless, couple fight, to Chernobyl. Meggie locks him out of her bedroom, opting to scream at him through the door. Dustfinger storms out of the house saying "I'm too old for this!" and no one sees him until much later. When he comes back, he sits outside Meggie's door until he falls asleep. When he wakes up, Meggie is curled into his side under a blanket. He smiles and kisses her on the forehead, stroking her tearstained cheeks. He's forgiven.

Meggie doesn't compare the first time Dustfinger and Mo fought about her to anything. It's awful enough without associating it to a cataclysmic event. Meggie is helping Farid with his reading when they hear the yelling in the den and they come running downstairs just in time to see her father slam Dustfinger up against a wall. Meggie doesn't cry or scream or do anything except stand in the doorway with Farid and watch. The two are past words and it's escalating into fist fighting, but Elinor yells for them to take it outside and away from her books. That's when they both see Meggie and they relax enough to go outside.

Dustfinger can't believe Silvertongue calls his daughter a "child" and insists that what he suspected (and rightfully so Dustfinger thought, surpressing a smirk) them of doing was "highly inappropriate." He listens to Meggie defend herself, skirt the topic as if he doesn't sneak into her room when Silvertongue's away. When she manages to calm him down, a million Mea Culpas later, Dustfinger finally speaks. He explains he only had the most honorable of intentions. Silvertongue actually began laughing. He doesn't believe that for a moment and says that if Dustfinger ever intends on holding hands with his daughter again he will learn to keep his personal affairs more discrete. That includes not leaving his shirt hanging from his daughter's bookshelf. Crisis avoided.

Dustfinger learns that some things, like anniversaries, shouldn't be forgotten and chocolate doesn't always fix things. Meggie learns that the silent treatment is effective in getting what she wants and sometimes people need their space. They both learn that a bottle of wine is wonderful on a hot summer night. Mostly they learn that love isn't perfect. It's messy and complicated and sometimes horrible but it's worth the mistakes. They learn that they're better off being in love with each other.


	10. The Candle

**The Candle**

This story starts with a candle stub and not quite a beginning.

The family had never been religious, and Elinor and Mo had always hated candles, but Meggie had always seemed to have one lit for special occasions. And how special this occasion was. Farid felt numbed, but he was diligent in keeping the candle lit. He was diligent in keeping the family together.

That's how he saw them: a family. Silvertongue and Resa were always there to teach him, smile at him, and make him feel safe. Elinor... well, despite her constant griping, she was a kind person at heart. And Darius was a constant source of good food. Then there was Dustfinger. Farid would do anything for him and, secretly, he sometimes wished he was Dustfinger's son.

It was falling apart. The first year had been the toughest. Meggie's parents were a wreck. They cried and fought. They blamed themselves. Farid cried when no one else could see. Elinor had become violently ill. Darius was at her bedside during the worst of it, forcing her to eat. Only Dustfinger had been silent. Always silent. Always watching. He would dissappear for days at a time.

It got better with time. Sometimes, especially on the holidays, Farid would catch Resa crying. Farid found it hard to look at her when she cried, so much like Meggie. He could almost imagine it was her, except Resa was mute. He once helped Darius repair Silvertongue's workshop window when the distraught father had thrown a book through it. Elinor had days when she could hardly get out of bed, but they were getting fewer and farther between. And still Dustfinger was silent. Always silent. Always watching. He almost never played with fire anymore.

It was on a grim night in December, that Farid found the box. The box was plain with Meggie's name across the top. Inside were Meggie's clothes. They smelled like her and Farid lifted a sweater to his nose. Sweet. Strong. Everything about her. He looked back into the box. There were bookmarks of bluejay feathers and a picture of them on her 15th birthday. He pulled out a blue book with a silvery chain holding it closed.

"Meggie's...Di-" he pronounced it with a short "i" but realized his mistake. "No, Diary."

Farid remembered the nights he and Meggie had been up late teaching and learning the letters that made up words. Diary. Farid surely knew that word. This was the book of her secrets; her most private thoughts. With shaking fingers, he opened the book.

_"Today," _Farid read._ "I watched Farid and Dustfinger play with fire. I swear it nearly makes me want to read them into that book just to see the amazing things they can do."_

_"I feel so silly now. I'd hate to lose my best friend over something as pointless as a fight. I'll never tell Farid that, though."_ Farid laughed aloud. He flipped further in the book, past pointless entries of bad hair days and stomach pains, towards the end.

_"I'm in love. It's the worst feeling ever. My head feels dizzy and my stomach is in knots. My parents would kill me if they knew. They'd kill him. I kept telling myself to stop loving him, but I can't."_

"What are you doing?" The voice made Farid jump. Dustfinger was standing in the attic doorway, staring at Farid blankly.

"I was- I saw the box and..."

"Bad enough with that candle lit, but you have to go and bring up more of her stuff." The fire dancer sat heavily on the bed, staring at the book in Farid's hands.

"It's been three years." Farid said, closing the book. "And she'd want us to... to stay a-"

"What?" he spat. "A family? I have no family."

"She treated you like you were!" Farid replied, just as causticly.

Dustfinger laughed bitterly. He ran a hand over his face. Since when had he looked so weary? Farid couldn't remember. Dustfinger took the book and opened it up near the end. He stared at an entry for a long time before handing it to Farid.

_"Dustfinger and I spent a long time talking last night. He's worried about me going to college. I love him, but I need to do this for myself. He says he understands. He told me he loved me last night. I almost missed it, I was in such a daze..."_

The rest didn't matter. Farid finally understood why he was so silent. Always silent. Always watching. His heart was as broken as anyone's.

"You know what happened... the car accident... it wasn't your fault."

"She was never supposed to go that way."

"It just happened." Farid said. "Her spirit-"

"Don't go on about her being a ghost."

"-is all around us. Not a ghost. Something more. Don't tell me you don't miss her. Her memory is trying to hold us together."

Dustfinger was silent for a long time. He swiped his sleeve across his face before looking at Farid, but he could see that tell tale red in his eyes. Dustfinger let Farid hug him, though the younger man knew he hated that.

Later, Farid busied himself with replacing the nearly spent candle by the window. Silvertongue and Resa smiled at him from the loveseat; those sad, bittersweet smiles. Elinor and Darius were on the couch, reading. It was still home, but it felt like something was missing. He could remember, three years ago, a similar scene. Except Silvertongue's smile wasn't quite so sad. Except Resa didn't have tears in her eyes. Except Elinor wasn't so gaunt and Darius' face so grim. Except Dustfinger and Meggie were reading by the fire. Farid turned away and ignored the prickling of tears. As he went to strike the match, Farid felt a hand on his shoulder. He couldn't quite help the tears that escaped his eyes as he watched Dustfinger light the candle.

This story ends with a candle and not quite an ending.


	11. Not So Young

AN: Hi there! Just a heads up, this story is the beginning of a six chapter story arc. Leave a review to let me know if you are enjoying the story. Please and thank you!

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**Not So Young**

Meggie was crying when Dustfinger found her, slumped on the upstairs bathroom floor. The rest of the rag-tag family was downstairs, eating breakfast, blissfully unaware of the crying young woman upstairs. She was sitting on the edge of the tub, staring at the floor, desperately trying to quiet her tears. Dustfinger stood awkwardly in the doorway until she finally realized the door was open and someone was looking at her.

"Dustfinger?" she sniffed. "When did you get back?"

"Farid and I came in last night."

"I didn't hear you come in. Short trip this time. Only two months, yeah?"

"I was walking by and heard..." Dustfinger stepped in and closed the door quietly. "Are you alright?" Meggie shook her head and wiped her eyes.

"Are you sick?" he pressed on.

"I'm... pregnant."

Dustfinger leaned back against the door to press it closed. In his own world, girls younger than Meggie would have small families by now. In this world, she was still considered too young. He stared at her silently, trying to process what she'd just told him.

"Who..." Dustfinger took a breath to calm himself down. "Who's is it?"

"Don't be stupid. It's Farid's." she replied, running a hand through her hair nervously. "He doesn't even know yet."

"You're so young." he breathed, mostly to himself.

"I'm 20!" Meggie snapped.

"You're not married!"

"Oh, and you were married?"

Dustfinger's face went dark. Meggie leaned back as if to recross the boundary she'd overstepped. She was smart enough to never bring up Roxane, as the fire eater never did. It was the one part of his old world that Meggie could see still haunted him.

"Dustfinger..." Meggie's voice broke. "What am I going to do?"

Dustfinger moved to crouch before her, staring up at the young woman. Silvertongue's daughter a soon to be mother? Now this was going to prove to be very interesting. He looked her over, realizing that she really wasn't a child anymore. Dustfinger sighed, knowing he was going to regret the next words.

"Don't worry. We'll sort things out."

Not long after, he and Meggie were sitting in a clinic somewhere in the country. It was homey building, with the waiting room downstairs in in the home's old parlor. Dustfinger was sitting in a chair by the fire and Meggie tried to calm her nervous energy by peering at the rows of books.

She glanced at him, fidling idly with her car keys. He had changed a lot in the past few years. His clothes were more modern, but he still favored jeans as they were safer for flames. Meggie gave him a new sweater every Christmas, as he would burn or wear out the one from the previous year. Right now he was wearing last year's and she could see a few burn marks on the sleeves. He looked up and she turned her attention back to a copy of _A Christmas Carol_.

"Margaret?"

Meggie and Dustfinger looked over at the nurse in the pink scrubs. She smiled at them and led them upstairs to a small examination room. She eyed Dustfinger suspiciously as he helped Meggie onto the table.

"Generally the boyfriend doesn't come to the procedure." she commented, opening a cabinet.

"Oh we're not together." Meggie said. "He's just a friend."

"Ah." The nurse smiled. "Well then I'll explain the procedure while I take some vitals."

Meggie nodded. Dustfinger looked at how pale the silvertongue was. He gave her a reassuring nod, although, if he had to admit it, nervousness wriggled like a snake in his belly. He watched like a statue as the nurse took Meggie's temperature.

"At your last appointment we placed the pregnancy at about 10 weeks, so you're about 12 weeks now. At this far along, we use the aspiration method. We'll give you an injection to numb everything." The nurse handed Meggie a small length of tubing, then moved to take her blood pressure. "Then, this type of tubing is inserted and suction created by an aspirating machine is used to remove the pregnancy from the uterus. You will hardly feel a thing. The whole procedure takes about five minutes."

"It won't hurt her in any way?" Dustfinger asked slowly.

"Well she might be a little sore and, well, honestly the whole thing can be emotionally trying. But in a few days she'll be right as rain physically. If you would like, I can give you the address of a nearby bed and breakfast where you can spend a few days to recouperate. Lots of rest is recommended. However, this is an outpatient procedure and complications are rare." The nurse finished taking her blood pressure and stood. "I'll go enter these into the computer and I'll be with you in a few minutes."

Meggie didn't recognise that she had left the room. She was staring at diagram of proper hand washing procedure. The words were out of her mouth before she'd even completed her thought.

"Don't you think it would look like Farid?" she asked. "I read somewhere that dark hair is a dominant trait so I guess it would have his hair. And his skin isn't that dark, so it would be fair. It would probably turn out to be tall. We're both tall. It might have my eyes. I think it would be pretty to have dark hair and blue eyes. It might be a silvertongue, like Mo and I. And don't you think that it'd be sad for it to grow up not being able to read aloud? Don't you think it'd be sad that its grandmother couldn't speak to him? That its father is never around? That its parents aren't married? That no one will help its mother bring it up? Don't you think?"

Meggie hadn't even realized she was crying until Dustfinger pulled her tight against his chest. Her fingers curled into the material of his sweater as she sobbed. Dustfinger didn't speak and stroked a hand across her hair.

"I'll help you."


	12. Waking Thoughts and Musings

AN: Hello, my lovely readers! I got a message asking me about the word count for each story. You might have noticed that the FF word count reads higher than just 1,000 words per chapter. I'm not sure why this is, but I can assure you that each chapter (not including the title or any author's notes) is exactly 1,000 words according to my computer. Questions, comments, and reviews are always welcome. Let's be honest, reviews can sometimes be what motivates us to keep writing!

**Waking Thoughts and Musings**

When Dustfinger first woke up, he thought he was in his bed in Elinor's attic. Then he realized there was something very warm curled up against him, making him wonder if Farid had another nightmare and scooted his cot up against Dustfinger's. No... no he'd outgrown that. This bed was far too soft and big to be his. Slowly, as his mind cleared, he remembered he was in a bed and breakfast somewhere in the Italian countryside and the warmth next to him was Silvertongue's daughter.

He opened his eyes a crack and looked over at her. She looked... like hell. Her face was still streaked with tears and there were circles under her eyes. No wonder, they had been up late into the evening. He glanced at the clock. 10:30. Much later than either of them ever woke up.

It wasn't unpleasant to wake up like this. She was a nice bedfellow, not taking up too much space or kicking in her sleep. He nearly snorted. What a thought! It wasn't as if he would be spending much time in her bed.

"Meggie?" he said quietly. He rolled onto his side, gently shaking her shoulder. "We should get up."

Meggie opened her eyes and looked at Dustfinger. He turned away; preferring not to see how sad her eyes looked.

"You should check to see if your parents called you." he said as he stood and made for the bathroom. "They're probably worried."

Meggie finally sat up and pulled her phone off the side table. Three voicemails.

_"Meggie?"_ her father's voice sounded anything but concerned on the phone._ "I know you're not a little girl anymore but your mother and I would like it if you'd leave a note before you take off for places unknown. I told her you're probably picking through lost treasures at a bookshop. Call us soon."_

_"Meggie? It's nearly supper time. Where are you? Can you please call us and let us know you're safe?"_

_"Meggie where are you?"_

She immediately dialed home.

"Hello?" her father asked.

"Hi Mo."

"Meggie! Where are you? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Mo. I'm at a bed and breakfast. I wanted to explore some new bookshops and I lost track of time, so I decided rather than drive home in the dark I'd stop for the night."

"Why didn't you pick up the phone?"

"It died and I didn't have a chance to charge it until I got to the room."

"Alright then." his voice sounded skeptical. "When will you be home? Your mother wants to order in tonight."

"I think I might stay here another night. It's pretty here with the snow and everything."

"Stay safe and be home soon." Mo said. "I love you, Meggie."

"Love you too." Meggie hung up the phone as the tears sprang to her eyes. "My father is still worried about me? How could I ever take care of a child?"

"You're father will always be worried about you."

Meggie jumped at Dustfinger's voice and turned to look at him. He was leaning in the bathroom doorway, staring at Meggie with an intensity that made her flinch. Something in her fluttered under that stare.

"He's your father. Just like you will always be worried about that baby, even when it's grown." Dusftinger said softly.

Meggie stood from the bed and walked to the window. She felt pinned under his stare like a butterfly under a pane of glass. The snow was falling heavily now, covering the fields in blankets.

_September was unusually warm. The fields were still green and spotted with flowers. Meggie had been with Farid for over a year now and what started out as love was slowly becoming something lesser. Meggie had been fine with Farid and Dustfinger's trips before they were together. But lately it seemed that the trips took all his time and he was more concerned with going places than being with her. They fought more. About silly things that never mattered later._

_It hadn't been their first time. If anything it was supposed to be a goodbye. Before the sun had broken through the clouds, he had slipped out of her room and back up to the attic._

_A few weeks later, after Farid and Dustfinger had left for the coast, Meggie began to feel tired. Her father joked that she would be the 20-year-old, female Rip-Van-Winkle. It was hard to concentrate on the work from her online classes. She wrote it off as the heavy coursework._

_It was late November when she finally took the home test. If she had to be honest, she'd known for a while. Her jeans didn't fit like they used to and she had three boxes of ginger biscuts stashed under her bed next to her book box. Still, that positive took the breath out of her. What was she going to do? Farid and Dustfinger would be back soon. Could she really tell Farid that she was..._

_No. So she stayed quiet and acted as if everything was fine. Thankfully the weather began to get cold quickly and she could wear sweatshirts to cover her growing stomach._

Everything looked so clean, so uncluttered. Unlike her mind. Normally, Meggie would go for a walk to clear her head, but her pregnancy was making her so tired all the time. One of many things she had to give up. One of many things she knew she would have to give up when her and Dustfinger walked out of that clinic.

"I said I would help you." Dustfinger's hands settled hesitantly on her shoulders. "You won't go through this alone."

"How am I going to tell him?"

"He'll understand. Hell, knowing Farid he'll probably be thrilled." Dustfinger chuckled.

"That's the problem!" Meggie snapped, shrugging his hands from her shoulders. "What if I don't want a baby! Just because I didn't kill it doesn't mean I'm right to keep it!"

"What if... what if you don't..." Dustfinger said.

"What do you mean?"


	13. A Better Idea

**A Better Idea**

"You've lost it." Meggie concluded when Dustfinger finished, running her fingers through her hair. "You've taken one too many blows to the head."

"You've got a better idea?" he asked.

Meggie was silent, thinking over Dustfinger's plan. It seemed so simple when he explained it. All she had to do was go home celebrate the holidays as normal. Immidiately after, she would pack for "an extended vacation to clear her mind." Dustfinger's absence wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary. They would drift, as Dustfinger does, from town to town. She couldn't expect any less from him. Yet the last part of his plan surprised her. The baby, once it was born, would stay with him. He would be in charge of finding it a suitable home and she could continue her life.

"I-I could do that... No trace." She stared at the patterns on the wallpaper. She was so very tired; the weight of the world settling over her.

"No. You would never know where to look and neither would the child." Dustfinger murmured. He sat in an armchair by the window, staring across the snowy fields. His eyes moved to where she lay across the bed. Her hair hung over the edge like a rope, shimmering in the lamplight. Something that couldn't be a smile tugged at the corners of his lips at the serene look on her face. His gaze drifted to the swell of her stomach, just barely visible under her sweater. Had he not known, he would have called it a few spare pounds. In her half asleep state, her hand rested absentmindedly on her stomach.

"I can see you with it, you know." he said, softly. Her eyes were closed and he knew she couldn't hear him. "Sitting in the library, reading. The baby in your lap. Or in the chair by the fire. Your aunt spoils the child and buys it antique children's books that Silvertongue binds in bright colors. Resa... drawing pictures. Pictures of animals. Pictures of things the baby's never seen and may never see. You and the baby sit outside on the bench where you like to read while Farid makes the fire dance. You both stand by its crib and you have that smile on your face. The one that would make Farid light up."

He looked over at Meggie who was fast asleep on the bed.

_Farid and Dustfinger had just finished a show and were packing up. Dustfinger pulled on his shirt and zipped his pack closed. A mandolin player, seeing the area newly open, began to play by the fountain where Meggie stood. When he looked up again, Farid was spinning Meggie around in a clumsy dance. She laughed and twirled to the music, her hair flying around her. For a moment, he could clearly remember Roxanne, raven hair spinning off in all directions and smile lighting up the square. Had her smile ever looked as sweet as that when they danced? He couldn't remember._

_He shook his head, clearing the thoughts like cobwebs from a bookshelf. Farid spun Meggie a little too fast and she started to trip over the cobblestones. Dustfinger instinctively lunged forward to catch her._

_"Thank you." she said, laughing. "That would have been embarassing."_

_"What kind of strolling player would I be if I let the young princess fall on her royal ass?"_

_"Oh you're horrible!" Meggie chided, but malice didn't reach her eyes. She straightened up, though he didn't take his hand from her arm. Meggie looked down at his hand, grimy from soot, then back up at his face with a question in her eyes._

_"Am I?" he asked softly. Meggie's face softened and she stared at him. He had to bite his tongue to keep from tell her to stop looking at him like that._

_"No. Not horrible at all."_

_"Meggie?"_

_They both turned to look at Farid. He was looking at them with an odd expression on his face. A grin split Meggie's face and she gently pulled her arm from Dustfinger's grip._

_"Let's get some of that dessert you like!" Farid asked excitedly. Dustfinger shook his head. Nearly 19 and still excited over sweets. The young silvertongue glanced back over her shoulder._

_"Well? Come on!"_

Dustfinger woke again just as the sun was setting. Meggie was awake now, sitting up in bed with a book in one hand and a cookie in the other. He stood and stretched and reached for the cookie box.

"Is this dinner?" he asked.

"You were asleep and I didn't feel like going far. There was a store just around the corner." She moved over and made room for him to sit. He leaned back against the head board and wondered when he had become so comfortable with her. "Nice town. I wouldn't mind living in a place like this some day. Everything's much closer than in Elinor's town."

"What are you reading?" Dustfinger peered at the title.

"It's a book about taking care of yourself while you're pregnant. I swiped it off one of the bookshelves at the clinic." Meggie didn't look at him but couldn't hide the grin on her face.

"Farid has been a bad influence on you." he chuckled. He took another cookie and chewed it slowly. "So what does this mean? Are you keeping the baby?"

"I suppose I am." She closed the book and turned to look at him. "Dustfinger... I heard what you said... about the family. All I've been able to think about is what it would be like and... I don't want this kid to be anywhere else than in my home."

"Now when did you become so smart?" he asked.

"We just have to figure out how to tell Farid."

"We?" Dustfinger said, startled.

"What kind of strolling player are you? Not coming to the princess' aid?" Meggie acted affronted but smiled all the same. "You said that you would would help me and I intend to hold you to that."


	14. To Be A Father

**To Be A Father**

"I'm trying not to say bad things but this hurts so bad and it's partly your fault!" Meggie groaned, collapsing back on her pillows.

"Partly. Only partly." Farid said, struggling to hold onto her hand. Meggie's mother stood at the other side of the bed, calmly smoothing her daughter's hair back from her forehead.

The past months had been an adventure for the Folcharts and their family. Every detail had been carefully planned right up until the baby decided it wanted to make its grand entrance at 39 weeks. The midwife, a kindly, older woman that reminded Meggie of the Which in _The Phantom Tollbooth_, graciously drove up to the Loredan/Folchart/whomever else ended up in the family Home. Needless to say, Meggie was pleased that her midwife was even nice at 4 in the morning.

"Meggie, dear." Charlotte, the midwife, said calmly. "Perhaps Farid should take a break. I can't deliver a baby and handle an unconcious daddy at the same time."

Meggie nodded and smiled up at him tiredly. He looked uncertain for a moment before kissing the back of her hand and darting from the room.

"He's taking this remarkably well." Charlotte commented.

"Trust me, he's excited." Meggie laughed. "You should have seen him when I told him."

_"You have to come see this new trick, Meggie!" Farid exclaimed as he poured himself a glass of water._

_"Farid-"_

_"I burned my arm the first couple of times, but it's not too bad."_

_"Farid, I wanted to-" Meggie felt Dustfinger put a hand on her shoulder._

_"Farid." he said sternly. "Meggie has something important to tell you."_

_Farid instantly turned around and Meggie dropped her gaze. Dustfinger's hand gently pressed against her shoulder._

_"I'm pregnant and you're the father." she said slowly._

_Meggie was expecting fainting or yelling or something other than what Farid proceeded to do. Farid put down his water glass, strode across the kitchen, and hugged Meggie hard._

_"Are you alright?" Meggie asked uncertainly._

_"Alright?" he pulled back and looked at her. "Meggie! I'm going to be a father!"_

_His smile was infectious and she couldn't stop it from spreading across her face. Even Dustfinger smiled when Farid grinned up at him._

Dustfinger and Mo found Farid in a tree out in the garden.

"How'd you find me?" he asked.

"After all these years, do you really think I don't know you better than that?" Dustfinger asked.

"Besides, you left your shoes in the doorway." Mo added. "Now, are you going to come down or are you going to make us climb up there?"

Farid dropped down the the ground next to him. The three sat down under the tree. Neither Mo nor Dustfinger had a son and Farid was the closest thing either would ever have. The complications of their current situation left them at an utter loss for anything helpful to say.

"How do you do it?" Farid asked, looking anxiously at Mo. "How do you make a good father?"

Mo was silent for a moment as he thought back on the long road that was raising Meggie.

"There's no real answer to that question. All we do is raise our children the best we can and hope that everything turns out alright. Some parents think that a structured home with a stable school is what a kid needs."

"But Meggie never had that." Farid pointed out.

"Well, that was what worked out for me. I raised Meggie for nine years by myself and I was scared out of my mind."

"Were you..." Farid looked up at Meggie's window. "Were you in there with Resa when she had Meggie?"

"Well we were at a hospital but yes, yes I was in there with her." Mo chuckled. "She nearly broke my fingers holding onto my hand."

Farid nodded staring at the ground. "Where were you when your daughters were born, Dustfinger?"

"They wouldn't let me anywhere near her either time." Dustfinger said, smiling. "No, Cloud-Dancer and I went to the inn to wait out the storm."

"So you weren't there at all?"

"No, I went back before the wine made it to the table. Paced outside the tent like a marten outside a hen house."

"And why did we decide to have the baby _here_ instead of a hospital?" Farid groaned, looking up at Meggie's window.

_"I want to have the baby here." Meggie announced over dinner one night. Mo nearly dropped his fork in surprise._

_"Why would you want to do that?" he asked._

_"I think it's a marvelous idea!" Elinor exclaimed. "You know, Mortimer, I was born in this house. My sisters and I all were."_

_"See?" Meggie said. "Besides, the hospital is so far away!"_

_"No." Farid said. "No it's safer in the hospital and I won't allow it."_

_The table fell silent. Dustfinger leaned back, amused, interested to see how this would play out._

_"You won't _allow_ it?" Meggie asked._

_"Why'd you say that?" Darius groaned, sensing another fight coming on._

_"No I won't!"_

_"It's my child!"_

_"It's mine too!"_

_"Well you're not the one that's carrying it!"_

_When the fight ended two days later, Meggie was looking up local midwives._

Dustfinger put a hand on Farid's shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"You should probably go inside now." Dustfinger said, looking up at the window. Farid followed his gaze and saw that Resa was waving at them to come inside.

"Listen, Farid." Mo said, helping him up. "There's no great secret to being a good father that Dustfinger or I could give you. All we can say is don't be afraid to come to us if you need help."

Farid looked up at Dustfinger who nodded in agreement. Farid smiled and turned to run inside. Dustfinger and Mo stood under the tree, looking up at the window. This might be the last moment of peace before the house became chaos.

"How long before he's asking for advice?" Dustfinger asked.

"I give him a week."

"I give him three days."


	15. To Be A Mother

AN: This is the last of the edited old chapters, meaning everything from here on out will be completely new stuff. The next chapter will be the last in the story arc (I'll put a reminder up) and following that should be some one shots. Thank you for reading!

**To Be A Mother**

"I. Really. Really. Don't. Like. You. Right. NOW!" Meggie said through clenched teeth.

"C'mon Meggie, it won't be long now." Charlotte urged.

Farid flexed his fingers when Meggie dropped his hand. Resa and Charlotte flitted around the room like a hummingbirds while everyone else waited downstairs. Farid, however, stood rooted to the spot. Meggie looked exhausted and he wished he could think of something, anything to say.

_Farid and Meggie were sitting on the couch looking at a book of baby names. Farid's hand rested on Meggie's belly, hoping to feel any kind of movement. _

_"What about Maximus?" Farid asked, slowly sounding out the name._

_"Max? No..."_

_Farid sighed and looked up at Meggie. Lately, she'd been getting more and more excited about the baby. The young man could feel it tugging at his heartstrings. He loved her, really, just not like he had when they were together. At first, he didn't think it mattered, but the conflicted feelings grew every day._

_"Are we going to get married?" he asked suddenly. Meggie shot him a startled look._

_"Why would you ask something like that?" Meggie replied._

_"We're going to raise a baby together, we should get married. That's what happens in this world."_

_"Who says? Farid, I don't know if you've noticed, but we're not exactly the normal family."_

_Farid was silent for a moment. He placed the book on the side table and moved over to the fireplace. Meggie looked at him for a long moment. He was the most handsome boy she'd ever seen and, at one point, she'd loved him with all her heart. That was a chapter of her story that had long since been written and completed, not to be reopened._

_"Why don't you want to marry me?" he asked, softly._

_"Because I love you more than that."_

_"That does not make sense!"_

_Meggie pushed herself off the couch and went over to Farid. She took one of his hands and put it on her stomach._

_"It's not enough to just love someone. You need be _in love_ with them. We both know that you're no more in love with me than I am in love with you. Don't you want to be happy? Don't you want _me _to be happy?"_

_Farid smiled, although it was a sad kind of smile._

_"Of course I do." he said. Then he leaned down to her stomach. "And I want you to be happy, too."_

_"And you are going to have two adoring parents..." Meggie pulled Farid back to the couch and sat down. "... and two remarkable grandparents..."_

_"And a crazy great-aunt." Farid added, grinning. "And two uncles."_

_"And two step-parents." Meggie finished softly. "Two step parents that your parents love deeply."_

_"Meggie," Farid said, pulling her tight against him. "This baby couldn't have a better mother."_

Darius practically had to chain Elinor to her bookshelf to keep her from going upstairs. Meggie had been very clear that she barely wanted Farid and her mother in there, let alone her great aunt. Mo was sitting anxiously in a chair by the window and Dustfinger had become a statue by the fireplace.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Farid came clamoring down the stairs. He was instantly bombarded with questions, both about the baby and its mother. Out of the din of questions and answers, Dustfinger honed in on the three words that Farid sounded most proud about.

It's a boy.

Later that night, both mother and baby having been deemed healthy, Resa was helping Meggie change clothes. Meggie stared down at her son. He was just like she imagined; the best of both of them. Her heart felt like it was going to burst.

"Resa?" Meggie asked as her mother helped her back into bed. "Were you scared when I was little?"

Resa nodded smiling. She picked up her pen and notepad from the side table and wrote quickly, handing it to Meggie.

_'I was afraid I would do something wrong.'_

"Wrong? Wrong how?"

Resa thought about it for a moment before writing again. Meggie patiently waited as she wrote each letter.

_'I was afraid I might do something wrong that would mess you up forever.'_ Resa laughed when Meggie read it.

"I just want to be perfect. In the past nine months I've read tons of books and they can't tell me a single consistant thing about it! I am so scared. And then there's..." Meggie let her sentence fall and she lowered her eyes.

_Meggie clapped emphatically as Dustfinger finished his show._

_"Bravo!" she laughed. "Brilliant, as always."_

_Dustfinger inclined his head towards the water bottle on the bench next to her. Meggie lifted herself off the bench, not the easiest task at 38 weeks, and handed it to him. Their fingers brushed and they recoiled as a shock passed between them. Meggie laughed nervously._

_"Static electricity."_

_Dustfinger nodded. His gaze went down to Meggie's stomach and she shifted uncomfortably._

_"I never thought I'd ever be this big." she said and hated how strained her voice sounded._

_"You look beautiful." he said firmly. Meggie grinned up at him._

_"Do you want to feel?" she asked, reaching for his hand. She lifted the hem of her shirt over her stomach and place his hand on her skin. Almost obediently, the baby shifted, making Dustfinger jump and pull his hand back. He turned from Meggie and made himself busy, picking up his equipment._

_"Dustfinger?" Meggie asked uncertainly._

_"Goodnight, Meggie."_

"I don't know how to raise a child. I hardly have my life pulled together. How can I be sure I'm going to be a good mother?"

Meggie's mother smiled that knowing smile and reached for the paper. She kissed her daughter on the forehead and walked out. It wasn't until she heard Resa's footsteps die away that she looked at the words on the paper.

_'Motherhood is about learning and figuring out what works. I'm still figuring things out. Just love him. Everything will fall into place.'_


End file.
